Good Lies (A Wild Minds Novel)

by Charlotte West

  For a while, he stayed on top of me, our breaths synchronized, coming and going with the warm surf. It was all-consuming. He kissed me. Tenderly, I stroked his back. I thought nothing could wash us away.

  Screaming fans packed the Key Arena in Seattle, the first stop on a tour of sold-out shows. Since Wild Minds and Wanks and Janks were on the same field in terms of popularity, they took turns on stage, playing for forty minutes at a time. It was unusual, but the fans were eating it up, especially since the encore was Wanks and Janks playing with Wild Minds. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see the two bands together.

  Wild Minds had finished their first set, and Wanks and Janks had just taken the stage. I’d managed to successfully avoid Warren all day. As part of my evasion plan, I decided to watch Wanks and Janks from the audience. I didn’t want to risk running into Warren backstage—too many dark corners, too many memories.

  Scurrying down the dimly lit corridor, I didn’t see the man lurking in the shadows, waiting for me. He stepped into my path and I nearly plowed into him.

  Oomph. A rush of breath escaped me.

  “Sorry, Ads. Didn’t mean to scare you.” It was Ash, smoking a cigarette and bare-chested. Like Warren, he was fully tatted. Sweat glistened on his pecs, which I was directly at eye level with. Of course, I found him attractive. He looked just like my jackhole husband, whom I’d once adored and thought was the most beautiful man on the planet.

  People rushed around us, no one noticing how uncomfortable I probably looked. “What’s up, Ash?” I gave him a steely smile. “I have to get down to the audience to watch the show.”

  His lips twitched and he took a drag of a cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a long breath. “That’s not very safe,” he said. The crowd could get pretty rowdy. It wasn’t a Wanks and Janks or Wild Minds concert without someone in the audience winding up in the hospital with a concussion or worse.

  “Trent’s going to hang with me.”

  Nodding, he said, “Yeah, that’s good.” He didn’t move.

  “Something you need, Ash?”

  “I was thinking…” His forehead went all crinkly. I resisted the urge to ask if the mere act of producing a thought hurt just a little. “Now that you and War are getting back together—”

  “We’re not getting back together,” I hurried to correct.

  He went on as if he hadn’t heard me. “You think Lily’s going to come back around?”

  The conversation had just gotten interesting. I viewed him through a speculative eye. “I doubt it.”

  “Yeah.” He dropped the cigarette and stomped it out under his boot. “You know I went to visit her?”

  I hadn’t known that. Lily had never told me. Still, there was no way I’d admit that to Ash. On stage, I heard Wanks and Janks’ second song start up. “We almost done with this heart-to-heart? There’s a show I’m missing.”

  “Yeah.” Again, he didn’t move. I huffed and started to step around him. But what he said next paused me. “If you talk to her, will you tell her I asked about her?”

  I didn’t know what exactly had gone down between Ash and Lily. They fought non-stop while we were in Europe, but it wasn’t over anything huge. At least, I didn’t think so. But now Lily wouldn’t talk about it. And it was clear by the look on Ash’s face that he still held a torch for Lily. My bestie had a unique effect on men. Ever know a girl men just fell in love with? Lily was one of those. A siren. In high school, a boy she barely knew camped outside her house with a boom box, à la Say Anything, playing Phil Collins on a continuous loop. It was a waste. Lily wasn’t even home. She was staying the night with me. We heard about it at school the next day.

  I patted his sweaty bicep. “Sure.”

  Ash smiled. “You know Derren thinks you have a black heart.” My brows rose and my gut clenched. I hadn’t realized how much it hurt, Derren hating me, until just then. When we were in Europe, Derren was my closest friend. Lily was too wrapped up in Ash. Derren and I bonded. I’d never thought he would hate me. “But I know my brother. He must’ve done something pretty heinous for you to cut and run.” Tears built in my eyes, from his kindness and Derren’s unkindness. His face scrunched up. “Are you crying? Don’t cry.”

  I swiped at my eyes. I wouldn’t admit to actually crying. Pride and all that. “I think it’s the smoke, the pyrotechnics from the show.”

  Ash squeezed my shoulder a little too hard. “Don’t worry, Derren will come around. Especially now that you and Warren are back together.”

  My tears instantly dried up. Ash was so hard-headed. I wanted to knock on his skull and ask if anyone was home. Warren and I were not getting back together. I chose not to argue the point—I figured it would take a couple rounds for Ash to get the message. Time I didn’t have. “You better go get warmed up.” I checked my watch. I’d missed half of Billy’s set already. “You only have twenty minutes before your next set, and I’ve got to meet Trent.”

  “Sure thing,” he said, giving me a head rub as I passed him.

  I muttered a series of curses and tried to smooth out my hair.

  By the time I made it around the stage and into the front row, Trent was gone and Billy had two songs left. Singing along to the lyrics, I let myself be absorbed into the crowd. I was glad I wore shorts and a simple white tank. All sorts of people jumped around me, their overheated bodies slick and sticky against mine. Soon I was just as sweaty, my hair matted with perspiration and my voice hoarse from yelling and singing at the top of my lungs. The energy of the audience was contagious.

  Wanks and Janks exited the stage. The lights dimmed, the arena suddenly pitch black other than the occasional lighter or cigarette cherry.

  The crowd chanted, “Wild Minds, Wild Minds, Wild Minds.” I decided to stay right where I was. I’d watch Warren from the safety of the audience. He wouldn’t be able to see me amongst the sea of people.

  A single, melodic voice pierced the auditorium. Warren’s croon sent shivers down my spine. “All of your ways. I’m reborn. You’re the thunder. You’re the lightning. You’re the eye of the storm.”

  Derren started on the drums, a heavy beat that shook the floor. Ash joined on the guitar, followed by Lix.

  The lights blazed on, spotlights on each member of Wild Minds. I moved my body to the notes. It didn’t matter what I looked like. That was the beauty of music. It carried you away. You could lose yourself in it. Warren’s steady sound caressed me.

  A woman whipped off her bra and threw it onto the stage. Fans sang along to the lyrics, holding up lighters. Some shouted their love for various members of the band, Warren’s name called out the most. As the lead singer, he got a lot of attention. The song ended. Thunderous applause. The music picked up. Bad Trust started, a song with a faster beat. The crowd surged. Someone pushed me, and I cascaded into the barrier set up between the stage and audience. It felt as if I had been punched in the stomach. I struggled for breath.

  “Hey, this chick has a V.I.P. pass!” a dude with a goatee shouted, pointing at the badge around my neck.

  “Get it from her!” his buddy, goatee number two, yelled.

  The lanyard around my neck was pulled, tightening around my throat like a noose. My hands went to where the lanyard dug into soft skin. A scream choked in my throat. A body careened into mine, my knees buckled and I was falling, the lanyard digging into my neck.

  A guitar screeched. The music stopped. “Hey!” Warren’s voice or Ash’s, I couldn’t tell. In my delirium they sounded the same.

  The lanyard around my neck went lax. I inhaled, gasping for air like a fish out of water. Still on the ground, all I could see were people’s feet. Bodies moved, people pushing and shoving one another. I was going to be trampled. I closed my eyes, put my hands over my head, and waited for the stomping to begin.

  Strong arms went around me and lifted me. When I opened my eyes Warren was carrying me, a team of beefy security around him. Immediately, I slung my arms around his neck and buried my face against his sw
eaty black T-shirt. I’d never thought I’d be so happy to see my treacherous husband.

  We made it backstage through all the cacophony. “Someone get a fucking medic!” Warren yelled. He settled us down on a giant speaker, my body curled in his lap. I tried to scoot off him, but he held me tighter. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned. I stilled.

  That was when it hit me. Warren was almost as freaked out as I was. He was shaking and every muscle in his body was tense, coiled like a snake waiting to strike. Roadies were sprinting everywhere and the fans were screaming, demanding Wild Minds return.

  Warren needed to get back on stage. If he didn’t, there might be a riot.

  A medic in an orange jumpsuit with a red-cross patch approached us. “Sir, can I take a look at her?” The medic knelt in front of us, slapping on a pair of latex gloves. The rest of Wild Minds appeared. Derren carried his drumsticks, spinning them anxiously in his hands.

  Warren’s grip tensed and he held me closer. He didn’t get that the threat was over. I was safe. Sort of—my throat hurt like a bitch.

  “Sir, please. I need to look at her,” the medic prompted again. Warren had a hand on my head, cradling it to his chest.

  “Ease up, bro.” Ash squeezed Warren’s shoulder.

  Warren came out of his stupor and adjusted me so I sat more upright on his lap.

  The paramedic probed my throat. I flinched and clutched Warren’s shirt.

  “Watch it,” Warren growled.

  “Sorry, Mr. Price.” The paramedic’s touch gentled. Why was he apologizing to Warren? He should be apologizing to me. I was the one who’d suffered his rough touch. “Open your mouth.” A penlight blinded me. I complied, opening wide. “Doesn’t look like there’s any internal damage.” Again, he addressed Warren. “Just in case, I think we should take her to the hospital.”

  What? No way. I hated hospitals. I launched myself from Warren’s lap only to be slammed back down.

  “Jesus Christ, Addy. Stay the fuck still. You could hurt yourself worse.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. My voice was hoarse, raw. Really, I wasn’t okay. Speaking those words burned like a motherfucker.

  Warren’s icy eyes cast me a doubting look.

  The paramedic spoke into a radio attached to his shoulder. “We’re going to need a bus at the Key Arena. Have it pull up into the back entrance. I’ll alert security.” Then to us he said, “I’m going to wait for the ambulance. You stay here. As soon as they arrive, I’ll direct them to you.” He took off in a jog.

  “I’m not going to the hospital,” I insisted. My voice was rough, like a pack-a-day smoker’s.

  “You are,” Warren replied.

  We stared at each other, a silent standoff.

  A group of way-underdressed girls stood by. “You’re a hero, Warren!” one of them cried.

  “I need rescuing!” another shouted.

  A man in a slick suit approached. From the looks of him, he was from the record label. They usually sent a lower-level exec to hang out backstage and make sure everything was copacetic. “Excuse me, Mr. Price. I can take it from here. I’ll get the girl safely into an ambulance.” He smiled, his teeth absurdly white, almost glowing.

  “No fucking way. I’m going with her.” Warren made it sound like someone had threatened to take away his favorite toy.

  The exec’s smile turned a touch oily. “We have a contract, Mr. Price. While I applaud your dedication to the girl, you’ve got thirty thousand fans out there who paid a lot of money to see you perform.” After I got my throat sorted out, I’d take a long shower to wash off the exec’s slimy vibe.

  “She’s not just a girl,” said Lix, tongue playing behind his cheek.

  Warren’s lip curled. “She’s my—”

  “Daughter, I’m Billy’s daughter.” Jeez, it really hurt to talk. I decided not to talk anymore. Never again. Yeah, that sounded good. I’d have to learn sign language, but it would be totally be worth it.

  The suit adjusted his tie. “Ms. Wanks, I apologize. I didn’t recognize you. Of course, in lieu of the extenuating circumstances Billy won’t be able to fulfill his obligations. Luckily for us, we have two bands. Wild Minds will still play. Gentlemen, let’s get you back out there.” He gestured to the stage.

  “Cancel the show. Refund the money. I don’t give a fuck. I’m going to the hospital with her,” Warren said. Ash and Lix nodded in agreement. Derren looked at the ground. Thanks for the loyalty.

  “Mr. Price—”

  “Ash?” Warren said.

  “Yeah?” Ash answered.

  “Get this fucking suit out of my face before I knock his pretty teeth out.”

  “On it, bro.” Ash’s hand went to the suit’s neck, steering him away. “What was your name again?” he asked him.

  “Bryan, sir.”

  “Well, Bryan. Earlier I saw this chick and I swear, she had the biggest tits I’ve ever seen.” Ash held out his hands in front of his chest. “The size of watermelons. I bet she’d love to spend some time with you.”

  The medic came rushing back and before I knew it, I was strapped to a stretcher. As I was being wheeled away, I managed to mouth the word, “Billy.”

  Lix promised to find him and direct him to the hospital. It might make me a big baby, but I wanted my dad.

  Warren insisted on riding in the ambulance. He growled, literally growled, when a paramedic tried to sit next to me. Wonderful. Maybe he should just pee on me and get it over with. I kept my gaze focused on the ceiling and not his beautiful, worried, tortured face. I didn’t want to feel pity for him. It was a dangerous emotion. First, I’d feel pity and then it was just a hop, skip and a jump to forgiving him. Warren was my Achilles’ heel.

  Too bad he didn’t feel like being ignored. “What were you thinking going down into the pit like that?” he berated me. “You know how dangerous the shows are.” Way to kick a girl while she’s down. Still, his lecturing helped raise some ire in me. And ire was better than pity. “I can’t believe you would be so stupid.”

  That did it. My ire bubbled to boiling anger.

  “You know what,” I whisper-hissed, rising off the stretcher—I didn’t get very far because they’d strapped me down. Wonderful. “I didn’t ask you to save me. I didn’t need you to come to my rescue. So if you could just not talk for the rest of this awful ordeal, that would be swell.”

  My chest heaved.

  Warren’s gaze landed on my breasts. My tank top showed the barest hint of cleavage.

  “Oh, my God,” I screeched. “Are you seriously looking at my boobs right now?’

  Warren lifted a shoulder. “Sorry.”

  I started to laugh at the absurdity. How had I gotten here? What was I doing? But then my humor turned to hysterics. Big, fat, silent tears began to leak down my cheeks. The numbing shock had worn off, and the weight of the moment fell upon me full force. In the past twenty-four hours, I’d cried more than I had cried in the last year. I convinced myself it was all Warren’s fault. And also, my throat hurt. It hurt so bad.

  Warren’s eyes devoured my face. With an exasperated sound, he said, “You…” He said the word harshly, as if it were ripped from inside him. He swallowed, struggling against some grave emotion. “You scared the shit out of me.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. “No more crowd-surfing.”

  My heart swelled and then burst. How could he act so concerned when his words in the past were so careless?

  I didn’t know.

  I didn’t ask.

  But when he laid his head on my chest, right over my heart, I didn’t push him away. I let him stay. What scared me the most was that I wanted him right where he was.

  The moment Billy arrived at the hospital, I knew. How did I know? Because he bellowed from the hallway, “Where’s my little bird?” He couldn’t help himself. He had to make an entrance, no matter what the circumstance. A clatter of footsteps and then my door swung open.

  I was lying in a proper hospital bed. Warren sat, cranky and
brooding, next to me in a chair that looked too small to hold his giant frame. I’d refused to speak to him the rest of the ride. Billy, Daisy, Jett, Turner and Chord filed in.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Daisy flew to my side. “Your neck.”

  I hadn’t seen the damage yet. But the doctor assured me there was carnage.

  “What mess did you get into now?” Billy asked, his tone joking. If I didn’t know my father, I’d think he was making light of the situation. And I guessed he was, to a degree. Humor was his armor. It was how he coped. When my appendix busted in the seventh grade he’d cracked dirty jokes with nurses. Later that night, I’d woken to him praying. Thanks for not taking her from me, he’d told the ceiling.

  Warren didn’t understand and he took offense on my behalf. “She was almost strangled and then stampeded to death.”

  Billy’s face paled.

  I shimmied up in bed and gave everyone in the room a weak smile, my version of a thumbs up. “I’m fine. The doctor said I’m fit enough to go home.” The doctor had also given me some wonderful painkillers. Upon arriving, I’d almost had a full-blown panic attack. Quickly, an I.V. was shoved into my arm, along with something to calm me. Now it felt like I was floating on an enormous, fluffy cloud.

  Turner stepped closer. He examined the I.V. bag. “They got you on some good drugs, Addy? Holy fuck!” He peered into my eyes. “Your pupils are completely dilated. You’re high as a kite.”

  “This isn’t funny,” Warren said.

  “I see dolphins swimming on the wall.” I giggled. The way the light cast the band’s shadows on the white wall across from me gave the appearance of a dreamy ocean.

  “They might’ve given her too much,” Jett said.

  “How many fingers am I holding up?” Chord asked. He held up two fingers, changed it to three, then to two again. I laughed.

  “That’s not how you do it,” Turner said, shoving Chord aside. “We need to see if she can walk a straight line.”